


Don't Close Up Shop Yet

by NalatteIceCream



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Almost a coffee Au, Auntie Katie and Uncle Hunk! Get ready, F/F, F/M, Keith has a motorcycle oops, Keith is a barista & Lance is A Mess™, M/M, Oc: Marley, Shiro is his little brother, but also angst, hella fluff, klance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-25
Updated: 2018-06-08
Packaged: 2019-04-24 04:00:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14347557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NalatteIceCream/pseuds/NalatteIceCream
Summary: In which Lance is a total sappy pining nerdAnd Keith is a pissy barista who's constantly ready to Slap a Bitch™





	1. Red Ella's

   

 Lance loves books.

    To his family– well, his immediate family at least– this is nothing new. He has two bookshelves back at home filled with all different kinds of books– and all of the books that don’t fit? Those go on the shelves he hung up on the wall. “God, you’re such a nerd!” His older sister always tells him, right before she steals a few to read on her own, and his younger twin brothers often use the bookshelves as climbing equipment (They’ve broken his wall, shelves, and a few ribs during these trips). He doesn’t mind it when a number of his books occasionally go missing, or when he comes home for break and half of his stash had disappeared.. They needed the rent money, and frankly, Lance needs more books. So where do you go to find hundreds and hundreds of books, all neatly set up on shelves, where you could sit and read for hours on end without being bothered?

  A library, but Hunk got hungry, so a bookstore with a coffee shop in it. Specifically Red Ella’s, where Lance sat next to his best friend, his legs crossed like a pretzel and his nose deep in another novel.

“Lance, we’ve been here for over four hours, and you said thirty minutes, tops.” Hunk reminded, idly flipping through some mech tech magazine he’d found “ _Tops_.”

“ I know, Sugartoes.” Lance grinned, briefly looking up from his novel to eye the fidgeting Samoan sitting next to him. “Just let me finish this book, kay?”

“But you said that like two  _hours_  ago. And that was five books and a  ** _cupcake_** ago.” Hunk frowned “I thought you wanted to go see Shay and Nyma?”

“Nyma can wait, this is getting good.” Lance grinned “But you can go see Shay, I don’t mind.”

“Broody moody coffee-churnin’ booty two o’ clock,” Pidge leaned in behind the pair, wiping down a coffee mug. It was her job to keep the merchandise and coffee equipment clean after all, so if it meant carrying her work halfway across a room to tell her Best BiFriend™ about a Booty of Interest™, then that’s what the hell was happening. “I’m guessing he’s here for closing time, just showed up.”

Hunk raised an eyebrow at Pidge before pushing her glasses higher up on her nose “Be careful, they almost fell..”

“Thanks, fam. Now, Lance, get your head out of your book,” she lifted his head with her free hand, turning it in the direction of the new kid “And go get some for Xarla’s sake!”

“But Tip just found out that J.Lo made her car fly and I- Oh.”

 _Oh_ , indeed.

The first thing he noticed was the hair. It was dark, and floofy, and it framed his face really really well and  _oh my god he has a mullet. What. Why._ The next thing he noticed was how his lips were pushed to the side in a small pout as he rummaged through the aprons hung up on a rack. His hands were gloved– fingerless gloves. Leather.  _Maybe a biker?–_ and his arms were pretty lean in stature, and Wow. His ass was shaped…Perfectly. And his thighs –Jesus fuck, did God make those himself???

Lance couldn’t help but imagine how he would look all sweaty and red, under him, on top of him, those pouty lips parted shamelessly, those hands grasping at Lance’s hair, tightening his thighs around his waist as those soft fingers pressed his harder against his skin…Hmm.. Fuck.

Thankfully, Mullet Thighs didn’t notice Lance was practically drooling over him, and it gave him the opportunity to pull himself together again. “Damn.”

“You like?” Pidge smirked, playfully shaking his shoulders.

“I do.” Lance whispered dramatically “I think I love. Call the police, Imma have to steal.”

“Then get out of your book and steal!”

Hunk just shook his head with the goofiest smile on his face, already guessing that Pidge just wanted to watch Lance fail– miserably. “I should go meet up with Shay… Should I tell Nyma that you were sick?”

“Tell her I’m flying high cause holy shit–” Lance snorted “Have fun, tell Shay I said hi.”

Once Hunk had disappeared–much to Pidge’s dismay– Lance’s face was once again, buried in his book.

 

Dios mio.

“Lance. Buddy. Friend. What are you doing.”

“Reading.”

Pidge groaned in response, rolling her eyes– She should’ve known. The only thing Lance loved more than flirting and doing…Everything he shouldn’t be that was in legal range?

Books.

“Fine. But when you get lonely one day, don’t say I didn’t try to help you.” she grinned and ruffled his hair “By the way, lend me that book when you’re done– Matt has been bugging me for new video games and I wanna mess with him.”

Pidge disappeared then, and Lance damn near completely forgot about Biker Gloves, getting lost in his novel. An hour passed by, then two, and finally Pidge stopped by his little lsland of books to drop a couple of cookies and a small cup of coffee in front of him, saying she’d see him back at their apartment, and then he was on his own.

But then again, not really.

“Hey, buddy. You gotta put all of this back… I’m gonna be closing up in a few minutes, and I think it’s illegal to lock customers in, so.”

Lance looked up from his book, only to see Mullet Gloves himself standing over him, hands on his hips and an annoyed expression on his face. “Uh…Uhm…” Lance blinked before forcing out a laugh that  _totally_  didn’t sound fake at all. “Uh, sure, um…Can I just…Can I just finish this? I’ve got a few chapters left…” Jesus Christ was he nervous? Why was he so nervous?? This isn’t new, this is just like any other person you think is cute on a walk to the damn park.

Except it wasn’t. This was one person– one  _boy_ – who was alone with him in a bookstore, and was asking him to leave –Which he really didn’t wanna do, by the way– and he was so pretty it was almost like looking at a character you’d only find in a novel, and his voice was– His voice. oh God, his  _voice???_

If books could talk.

“If you would just let me stay, I’d pay you overtime.”

“Just pay for the book?”

Uh, forty five dollars for  _this_???It was good, but definitely not  _that_  good. “…I don’t have that kinda money.” Lance smiled “Please,” He eyed the tag on the front of his shirt

“Keith?” 


	2. Mullet Thighs™ Strikes Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Lance is a total sappy pining nerd  
> And Keith is a pissy barista who's constantly ready to Slap A Bitch™

“Please…Keith?”

Keith stared down at the boy who was damn near surrounded by books– books that he, personally, would have to put back. And he’s not buying any of them??

Pft. How to get on Keith’s good side 101.

It took him a while to realize that the boy had been waiting for an answer, but before a response came to mind, he continued.

“Tell you what. I finish this, and I’ll put all these books back, and leave a tip of five fair American dollars, since apparently Cuban dólares aren’t used here…”

_He’s Cuban? Cute. Wait, what? Being Cuban doesn’t make someone cute! Right?_

“Uh, that…That’s kinda…You’d go through all of that just to stay and read a book? Damn. How good is that book?” Keith bit his tongue then, Shiro’s voice ringing in the back of his head.  _Language…_ “Excuse my  _language_ …”Keith started to say before his eyes drifted from the boy’s nose– a tactic he used to avoid unnecessary awkwardness– to his eyes. They were blue, surprisingly, a startling blue… Like the ocean. They complimented his skin pretty well too– blue against tanned skin looks  _really_  good together, much to his surprise. The boy was slim, slender, but not thin, and Keith could tell by far that he had the well-underrated swimmers physique. It was almost enough to make him wanna sit next to him and beg him to stay.

Outside of Keith’s journey of the stranger’s body, that very same stranger cleared his throat and raised an eyebrow at him, a smile set on his lips. “You okay there?”

“Huh?”

“You were talking, and then you just kinda trailed off. You good?” He smirked, and Keith felt his cheeks begin to burn in embarrassment, knowing full damn well that he’d been caught.

 _He caught me staring…Fuck._ Keithcrossed his arms and scowled. “I’m fine, I was just gonna say that you’re going through a lot of trouble for a book that you could just–”  _Wait_.

Keith narrowed his eyes in suspicion “You know you’re the only customer left here.”

“Yes.”

“And I just so happen to be the last barista left.” Keith tapped his foot in annoyance… This dude probably wasn’t even really reading…Nobody reads this much in a goddamn bookstore.  _God,_ he was so  _tired_  of this _._ “Look.” he snapped, “If you’re trying to show me that you like me, I’d prefer it if you just told me like a normal person instead of being super fucking creepy about it.”

The boy’s face slowly switched from amusement to blatant confusion. Keith could practically see the giant ‘What.’ across his forehead.“Wha?”

Keith could already feel it in his gut– he’d messed up.  _Maybe this guy isn’t a creep after all…_

Oh well. He couldn’t just back out, then Cuban Boy would win. So, he ran with it.

To hell with  _'proper’_  language. “Listen, you’re not the first creepazoid fuck that’s tried to read past closing time just to fucking watch me work for the next two fucking hours, so tell you what.” If you don’t leave, without the stupid fucking book, I’m gonna call the goddamn police–“

"Hold up.”

The boy’s shock had worn off, and he raised his arm as if to cut Keith off. “Wait. You think I’m staying here…For  _you_?”

_…What._

The boy snorted and shook his head “My dude, I am solely here for my book. I plan to finish it, and leave.” He closed the novel a little and stared Keith dead in his eyes, and for a split second, Keith couldn’t tell if he was amused, annoyed, or both. “I mean, you’re cute. But you’re not that cute.” He held his hand out “I think we got off on the wrong  _page_  here. I’m Lance.”

….Was that a fucking  _pun_? “Uh…” He stared at Lance blankly, trying to figure out what to say next– Not only did Lance already shut down the whole 'I’m-only-here-cause-I-wanna-fuck’ thing, but Lance had already known Keith’s name to begin with. Keith began to regret wearing a name tag on his shirt because now he had absolutely nothing to say.

“This is the part where you like, shake my hand or something. Don’t leave me hangin' just yet, at least gimme a first date before you ditch me.”

 _….What the hell is wrong with this kid?_  Keith furrowed his brows and abruptly grasped Lance’s hand, giving it a firm shake “… Okay.”

 _Okay? Really? Just okay? For God’s sake, he is_ flirting _and all you come up with is_ okay?? **** _Get it together, Kogane._ “…Uh…” He stared at Lance, watching as he lips slowly curved up into the most  _annoying fucking smile-_

“So uh… Can I.. Can I read my book? Please? I’ll be out of your mullet- your hair! Your  _hair_ … As soon as I’m done.” Goodbye Snarky Lance, hello Bean Lance.

“Uhm…” Keith could feel his cheeks burning again, even more than before– Thank God he learned how to keep the face flood to a minimum. “Sure. Sure, sure. Uh… I’m gonna be over at my station, cleaning up and stuff, um… Just, be quiet. Okay?”

Lance’s eyes sparkled, and he nodded rapidly “Done and done.”

With a short nod, Keith retreated back behind the counter and started to clean, keeping his head bowed so that his hair would fall in front of his face, offering a temporary veil from…everything. Oddly enough, whenever he looked up half expecting Lance to be staring at him, he wasn’t– his eyes were trained on the novel in front of him, and he was biting his lip, obviously fully immersed in whatever the fuck was going on in that story. It was kind of disappointing, but at least he stayed true to his word.

An hour and one clean Red Ella’s later, Lance was putting the last book back in its place, and Keith had the keys in his hands, ready to go. “So uh… Do you come here often?”

“Nah, first time. I’m usually down at the Castle library, but my friend got hungry, this book got interesting, and then you showed up, so I decided, why leave?” Lance shrugged his jacket back on and huffed, smiling “I’m guessing you don’t want me around anymore…Don’t want my favourite barista to think I’m a creepazoid fuck now.”

 _Oh my sweet lord_. “You don’t even know me… How can I be your favourite?”

“You don’t take people’s shit. Even though I didn’t have any shit to give you… I still appreciate being around someone that’s prepared to sass your ass off.”

Keith rolled his eyes in response and crossed his arms “Get out, Lance.”

“Yessir.” Lance snorted, sliding outside “Damn …Nice and warm? I think I’ll go down to the harbor. Wanna come with?”

Keith forced himself to finish locking the door behind them before he turned to face Lance again, who was busily unchaining his bike from the stand “…What?”

“Wanna go to the harbor with me? It can be our first date, yeah?”

“How do you know I’d even want to– Dude, we just met like four hours ago??? I threatened to call the  _police_  on you??”

“When has that ever stopped anybody?”        

Lance raised an eyebrow and laughed, and Keith swore that 'yes’ was right on his tongue, but then he remembered:  _Shiro_. “I can’t… My brother is waiting for me back home. Sorry man.”

“It’s cool, you’ll come around eventually.” Lance nodded before throwing his leg over his bike, propping himself up on the seat “Well. Bye, Keith. See you around?”

“Um…Sure.” Keith watched as Lance rode onto the street, purposely ringing the bell on the front to get Keiths attention before he winked– fucking  _winked_ for fuck’s sake– and disappeared.

_I wonder if he’ll come back._

He smiled a little, just barely, at the thought of quick-lipped Lance back at Red Ella’s, sitting at that same seat, surrounded by books, and maybe… Maybe he’d stop and talk to him again.  _Maybe_.

But for now? Keith had other shit to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...It's bad I know don't hate me aaagh


	3. Welcome Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Lance is a total sappy pining nerd  
> And Keith is a pissy Barista who's constantly ready to Slap A Bitch™

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Swings my hips* Alright Bitches
> 
> Here comes the porn
> 
> Jk jk… Issa wet dream
> 
> Tbh, I’ve done… Way more graphic things. 
> 
> Like….Way more graphic. 
> 
> But!! If you’re not into any of that, I suggest you skip to the next break (Which would be this ----) you won’t have missed much… It’s just a wet dream.

_“Lance…”_

_Keith whined, rolling his hips against Lance’s knee with his fingers in his hair. He was panting, begging, begging for Lance to do something, anything. “Lance, please, please please please I need you, I need you, please–”_

_Lance yanked his head back by his ponytail to expose his neck, and he bit down on his collarbone, dragging his tongue over the bite and sucking, hard. He could feel Keith under him, rising up off of his knees, and he growled low in his throat._

_“Did I say you could move?”_

_Keith shuddered and moaned, panting softly.“L-Lance, oh my God, I can’t, I need it, I need–”_

_“Tell me what you need, Keith.” Lance stared at him, watched as those violet eyes wavered before he responded._

_“Take me…”_

* * *

 

“Oh take me now, Lance! Take me with your big strong noodle arms! Fill me up with the milk from your manly  _pencil_  dick! Oh, Lance, I’ll do your Bio homework for the rest of the semester if you just take me  _now_!!!”

“…”

     Sometimes, Lance thanked the heavens for his friend, his pal, his best DemiDog™ LesFren™ Buddy gal Pidge. Sometimes he just wanted to grab her in his arms and squeeze her until all the love he felt finally went away, and he could concentrate on being the best friend he could be to his small companion. And sometimes, he’d just get so gosh darn happy when he saw her, cause she’s such a doggone good friend that it just made his heart swell in his chest.

This, however, was not one of those times.

 Instead, Lance silently wished that the earth would open up and swallow the little midget that was rolling on the floor, literally, crying laughing.

“PiiIIIIDGE!!!”

“Your face!! Oh my God your FACE, it was  _PRICELESS_!!!” She howled, kicking her legs in the air as she drowned in a fit of laughter.“Oh, oh wait wait wait— ‘Tell me what you want, Keith.’” Pidge stared at Lance, completely silent, until the red on his cheeks spread to his nose and all the way up to the tip of his ears.

Of course, she lost it. Again.

“I CAN’T!!”

“Shut. The hell.  _UP_.” Lance sat up on the couch and threw a pillow at her, his face burning. “Why can’t you ever let me sleep?”

“Oh Keith, you’re so beautifuuuul. I just wanna look at you aaaaalll niiiight  _long_.” Pidge guffawed and pulled her glasses off of her face, still laughing as she wiped her eyes. “After that, I just couldn’t resist.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re Satan in disguise?”

“You’re the first, my friend.” Pidge smirked. “I mean, look on the bright side. If not for me, you wouldn’t have been dreaming about… What’s his name…  _Keith_.”

“…Why don’t you love me?” Lance groaned and flopped back on the couch, hiding his face. “This is... So freaking embarrassing.”

“Seriously though, what sex book did you read before you went to sleep? You were louder than you usually are.”

“There was no  _sex book—_ wait, usually am— _Dude!!_ ” Lance yelled and threw yet another pillow at her. “One, I am not that loud! And two, its called erotica, for your information. God, Pidge.” He scowled, dropping into his theatre voice. “Have you no decency?”

“Thou loins were quivering like leaves in the wind. Tis’ not I that is without decency, tis… Uh…you.”

“…Shut up. And don't look at my loins! That's weird, man.”

Lance pouted, and Pidge threw her arms around him, laughing all over again. “I’m sorry, I’ll stop.” She grinned. “But! I’m assuming things went  _well_  with Mister Mullet?” She asked, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively, and Lance snorted as he gently pushed her off of him.

   “Well, he almost called the cops on me, and I’m pretty sure he’d spit in my coffee if I ever piss him off, but other than that,” He smiled. “It went okay.”

“He threatened to call the cops on you.”

“He thought I was a creep.”

“He doesn’t think that now??”

    Lance grinned, hugging the last pillow left on the couch. “Believe it or not, I think he likes me. I mean, how could he not? I’m me.” He snorted and leaned back, looking up at the ceiling.“I invited him to go to the harbor with me… He said no. Thank God he did too; cause I’m broker than an actual broker.” 

 “That is…Not funny at all.” Pidge snorted. “How far you’d go just to flirt? Amazes me. and plus, when all you spend your money on is food, books and beauty products–”

     “Hey! Beauty is pain.”

 “And empty wallets.” 

      Lance narrowed his eyes at her.  _“Pain.”_

 “Uh huh. Well, now that he’s refused a date, it’s time for phase two.”

   “Um... Wouldn't it just be back to phase one?”

“No.  _Obviously_  you ask him to marry you…I’m sure that a diamond will get his attention,” She pretended to swoon, dropping into Lance’s lap. “And his heart.”

   Pidge snorted, and then yelped, having gotten smacked back onto the floor with a mass of cotton and feathers. Lance had decided to hit her more than once with the pillow this time for good measure, and once she was on the floor, he slid forward and stuffed the pillow over her face. After a few moments of strangled Italian curses and a few potential bruises on Lance's legs, Pidge was finally quiet. 

  "Are you dead?" 

"...Just barely." 

   "Okay good. Now shut up before I tell Hunk you’re sick and he brings over that Sesame-whatever soup.”

 Pidge made a sound like she was vomiting under the pillow, and Lance could hear a faint “Please don’t” under the mass of fluff. 

Lance harrumphed and pulled the pillow from off of her face, sitting back against the couch cushions. "I'm not thinking about marrying Keith, but I mean, have you seen him?? He's very pretty, like, very very pretty, as in godfuckingdamn—"

"Lance, please get to the point you're trying to make here? And try not to be  _super_ creepy? I'm beggin' here."

  “Well... Well, what if he really doesn’t like me?!”  

 “Then you move on, just like you do every other time.” Pidge shrugged. “Maybe he’ll come around, maybe he won’t. Maybe you should give him time to actually like, oh I don't know, get to know you??”

"...Shut up, Pidge." 

   As much as Lance didn't want to accept it, he knew that Pidge was right… Maybe Keith really did think he was a creep. Maybe he wanted nothing to do with him. With most people that acted like that towards him, it was easy to forget it, play it off, move on. Lance was very good at making himself believe that he could let shit go…Let people go.  But what he didn’t understand, was that if everybody else was so easy to forget— why was this one Mulletface still so prominent in his mind?? They'd literally only really talked for about ten minutes, altogether. Why was Lance so stuck on him already?

    "...Do you think... that we're like...Soulmates?" 

"I think that you're a mildly attractive Latin-American infatuated with a hot piece of Korean-American ass." 

  "...He's Korean??" 

"Well I mean, I think so. That's not the point here! The point is, you've had a chance with every boy, girl, human being you've ever flirted with. The question is, will you blow it, or not?" 

   "...Yeah, you're right—...Wait." Lance paused and turned to face Pidge again. "I've flirted with you. Multiple times." 

"...That was before you knew the rules, friend."   
 

   "What? 'I'm gay, stay away, or I'll use my pepper spray'??"

"No, although that's pretty good," Pidge snorted, "The rule is that... I'm married to science, and I will remain faithful." She winked and grinned at Lance, a little more amused with his "I cannot believe you just pulled that bullshit on me" face than she should have been. " Anyways... You have a chance. With Keith. Just don't blow it." 

  Lance sighed and nuzzled his face into his couch cushion, staring off at the wall in front of him. "...Easier said than done, Kates." 

     "That, my friend, is completely up to you." 

* * *

 

 _“We only talked for like five minutes!”_   Keith complained over the phone, tapping his fingers on the handles of his motorcycle “Five minutes!"

 “Yes, five minutes too short. That’s not a good enough excuse to pass up good old interaction time with new people! Now. Tell me the real reason why you didn’t go with him to the harbor? He was obviously interested in you. And! It sounds like such a nice trip. I’d like to go. Would you take me?”

“Coran—..." Keith sighed and bit the inside of his cheek in a silent apology. He knew that he was probably being way ruder than need be— especially considering that Coran was the reason that he was even there in the first place. He'd provided Keith with a job at his own cafe, a place to live, and a sense of stability that Keith hadn't felt in such a long time that the feeling was alien to him. He'd been there to help Keith take care of himself, teach him the ways of actually staying put in one goddamned city, and guide him; like an uncle he never had.

  Keith had thought that once Coran found out about his record, about all the trouble he'd been in and the havoc he'd wrecked, he'd just turn him away, back to the streets— but he hadn't. And if Coran could risk his business and reputation just for _him_? The least Keith could do was have a civil conversation with him. "Okay, maybe I would. Maybe we can go someday." 

  "And bring this Lance character." 

"No." 

   "Ah come on, Keith! From what you've told me, he sounds like a perfect distraction for you!" 

“He wouldn't be a distraction for me, Coran...” Keith narrowed his eyes behind his helmet, silently cursing out some minivan that had just driven in front of him— stupid suburban parents. He knew all too well that no one is a distraction— just another problem for another time. “He's just gonna be another responsibility I don't need. He doesn’t seem like one of those people that would be any help to me right now.”

    “Maybe that's a good thing. Keith, it's alright to take a break from your worries sometimes." 

 "...Not for me. Listen, I'm home now, so I'll just talk to you later, okay?"

  “Keith–”

“I’ll talk to you later, Coran.” 

 Keith sighed and shut his watch off, stopping in front of an apartment complex. Well, more like a giant hollowed out brick with a few smaller hollowed out bricks inside of it, in between more giant hollowed out bricks with smaller, hollowed out bricks inside of them. There were children crowded in the hallways in front of each apartment door, and Keith began to wonder if they ever got scared of falling over the ledge onto the basketball court below.

    There were people everywhere, and they were all doing something different; from watching a basketball game that was happening in the courts in between the complexes, to playing some game they invented, to listening to the radio music. The older tenants could be seen either yelling for their children to come inside, or just watching the commotion beneath them and talking to their friends about their day.

  It was loud, and crowded, and not very much- but it was home. 

 Keith rolled his bike to his little parking space in front of his complex, and flexed his fingers in slight discomfort as he walked up the front steps of his building. There was a small group of children sitting there; but there was one in particular who caught his eye.

 " _Hey everybody, Keith's back!!_ " 

   "Hi Marle- oof!!" Keith wheezed out as a mass of brown and black launched itself around his waist and into his stomach. "Yeah yeah, you got me this time." 

 "I know." The small child giggled. "How was work?" 

 "Work was... Interesting." Keith groaned and pried the girl off of him. "Why are you still out here? It's almost eight." 

  "Well, Momma said I don't have to be inside until the sun sets, and the sun hasn't set, and that means I can stay out here, until the sun sets, so that's why I'm out here, at almost eight." 

    Marley was... Definitely an interesting child. She was a seven year old brown-skinned, green-eyed and black-haired ball of energy who turned heads and wreaked havoc wherever she went. She was the youngest of five children, and she made sure everybody knew it- either by her know-it-all attitude, or her... Sticky little hands.  

  "Uh huh." Keith sighed, looking past her at the kids on his steps. "Where's Shiro?" 

"He got sad and went inside cause you weren't here." 

     “...Shit.”

“Language." 

 "Sorry." Keith frowned. "Well, don't stay out too late, okay?" 

    "Okay okay-" 

"I mean it, Marley." 

  "Okay, _Dad_ , jeez!" She grinned and saluted in his direction. "Good luck with Shiro!" 

     Good luck indeed. Keith knew that he was in trouble the second he opened the door and found nothing but darkness inside. There could only mean two things: either Shiro was sleeping, or Shiro was waiting. Now the boy may have only been six, but he was a six year old with a serious sense of punctuality. 

"I know you're not sleeping."

   “You were late.”

“I know.”

“Again.”  

“I know, Shiro.”

Keith could hear the springs from the sofa creak before Shiro spoke again. “Why were you late this time?”

    “I got…I got a new job. At some cafe farther out of the city. It's really cool, I think you'd like it...” Keith offered a smile and sighed. "I know you don't like it when I'm late." 

  "... Do you think I could come visit your job this time? Will they let me stay? Can I bring my friend, Matt?" 

  "Yes, yes, and if his mother says so, then sure." 

"Then you're forgiven!" Shiro jumped off of their couch and hugged Keith as tightly as he could. "Where do you work? Is it a bakery? You smell like muffins and soy milk and coffee and gasoline and" 

Keith smiled as the little boy rambled, a soft, small smile that was practically reserved for Shiro, and Shiro alone. “It’s at a bookstore cafe…Red Ella’s.”

 “Is it fun there??”

“Uh…It’s…” Keith tilted his head in thought, barely even realizing that the first thought that popped up in his head, was Lance. “It was interesting.” He raised an eyebrow  “How was your day?”

  “It was okay…Ms.Allura says that my handwriting is getting better.. Oh, and look!” Shiro pulled a colourful piece of paper from his jacket and handed it to Keith. “She said for us to draw our family…So I drew you.”  

Keith looked at the drawing, his hands shaking. “..Aw, Shiro…”

“I was extra worried that you wouldn’t come home…I thought that you wouldn’t like the drawing. I wasn't gonna show you cause I thought you would do what you did last time.”

 “I know, and I’m sorry, I really am–” Keith stopped when a pair of arms wrapped around him, and Shiro had his head buried into his stomach.

“I love you, Keith. Stop coming home late." 

    Keith couldn't help but laugh.“…I love you too, Shiro. Come on…” Keith pried his arms from around his waist and sniffed his collar. "God! What is that smell??" 

  "Salamander. Matt let me play with Newt today."

“A salamander named Newt. Of course." Keith grinned. "Let’s get you cleaned up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a bit of trouble describing Keith's house, so in case you're confused,,, it's inspired by the "Projects" in Brooklyn.
> 
> I'm probably not gonna go into detail about what kind of apartment building Lance lives in, but it's not that much different-- it's less of a "Project" though and more of a legit apartment building. Plus, their landlord is way more of an asshole than Keith's.
> 
> Thanks for actually reading this fuckery ^-^
> 
> Edit: This was a whole ass rewrite cause I was not happy with this at all oops  
> But hey  
> I got my mojo back! Yey

**Author's Note:**

> Heyo!  
> It's me.  
> Ya boi.  
> Uhhh...The first few parts of this are gonna be ridiculously short only because I started this fic on Tumblr and yeah it's a mess but I'm working on it I swear
> 
>  
> 
> Catch you on the flip.


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